


and waited for you to speak to me

by oesterheld



Series: Angel Camisado [3]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Dungeons & Dragons Character Backstory, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25369063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oesterheld/pseuds/oesterheld
Summary: Angel goes to the place where Robi died. He picks up some stones, and speaks.inspired by Bixby Canyon Bridge by Death Cab for Cutie
Relationships: Angel Camisado/Robi
Series: Angel Camisado [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837117





	and waited for you to speak to me

The earth on this beach is not so much sand as it is gravel, digging into Angel’s feet as he treads toward the water. The treeline is oddly close to the water, and when the tide comes in at night, saltwater licks the roots that poke out of the ground. It’s a quaint little beach, away from civilization, but only half a day’s walk from the nearest town. Angel remembers the walk from this beach almost two years ago, how alone he felt. Each step he took away from this beach was a little less light in the world, he became a little more lonely. He thought, maybe, tracing his steps would bring the light back.

It doesn’t.

Two years ago, he trudged up this beach on his hands and knees, dragging a bloody stump behind him as a right leg. This time, he takes his shoes off to feel the rocks dig into his heel, to hear the metal of his prosthetic sink into the pebbles. He limps much worse when he doesn't have shoes to balance the weight of his body, but he doesn’t pay it any strife. He has more important things on his mind.

He rolls up his pant legs and steps into the small waves on the beach. The water is cold. It’s March, so the snow on the mountains is still melting and the water, fresh and salt, is 40 degrees. He takes another step, feeling the freezing water tickle his left shin. He gets far enough in to feel the water splash up to where his right leg ends halfway down the calf and stops, looking into the water.

When the dust from his disturbance settles, he sees the beautiful shining stones. They glisten under the water, even in this cloudy weather. He bends down to pick up a few and looks at them as the air dries them. Outside of their usual habitat, they look grey and dead. They don’t shine or grab attention, they just sit there, useless weights in Angel’s hand.

He pockets the stones. He looks up and down the beach, unable to find what he came here for. He waits for something to happen.

Nothing happens.

“Robi?” He tentatively murmurs. He tried not to look, that day. He kept his eyes screwed shut, but… there was a glance. Just a small one, but he caught an image all the same. An image blurred by glare from the sun and salt water in his eyes. An image of his love, dead and mutilated by the sea, laying on this beach. Right where Angel is standing.

The image flashes through his mind now, as he gives the beach another once-over looking for the boy. He would have turned 19 yesterday, two months before Angel did.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I knew it was wrong, I knew they were bad, but they felt safe, Robi, they felt like fire. They felt like you.” All of a sudden, Angel’s legs just can’t hold him anymore, and he falls in a heap in the water, his hands catching his fall on the beautiful stones. Angel is sobbing, but he isn’t done speaking, he has to explain himself.

“I just missed you so much. I still miss you,  _ so much. _ I wanted you back, okay? You made me feel alive, like I was a real person, but then that boat, and Kala- it was like everything was a dream, and the only real thing in my life was the desert. I’ve never liked the desert, but now it’s what I cling to for some kind of stability, for… for fire.” Angel has stopped sobbing, the tears marking his face in a warm juxtaposition to the temperature of his ocean-wet hands and legs.

“You were my fire, and now that you’re gone, it comes pouring out of me like the rain. I can’t keep it in,  _ khalil _ , I can’t control it. I destroy everything I touch.”


End file.
